The Ground Beneath

by Stephanie Vercier

  He props up his elbow, supporting his head, his other hand resting its warmth on my naked side. “Okay. I’d like to hear it then.”

  I wiggle away from him and sit up, holding the sheet over my breasts. My movement brings him up too so that he’s sitting with his back against the headboard, his muscular chest and abdomen exposed for me to see.

  “Wyatt died on our wedding night,” I say. I could almost stop there, that one sentence enough to explain how I could have had a husband and remained a virgin. But I continue, wanting to unburden myself to Hunter. “If it had been up to me, we wouldn’t have waited, but Wyatt didn’t want to have sex until after our vows. He had this vision of me, that I was pure, and he didn’t want to let go of it.”

  “Oh.” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down his throat while an uncomfortable clarity passes over his eyes. “Then he was a stronger man than I could have been. How could he resist not wanting to have all of you?”

  “He didn’t resist everything,” I say.

  “You did other things then?”

  “No… we didn’t do anything at all, Hunter. Wyatt wanted to keep me uncontaminated, but he didn’t keep himself that way.”

  Hunter straightens his back and tightens his jaw. “He cheated on you?”

  “Is it really that hard to believe?”

  “Yes, it is actually. Why the hell would he risk losing you?”

  I don’t know.

  My world had been perfect the day I got married. When I told Wyatt I would love and cherish him, through sickness and in health, until death do us part, I meant every last word. And I believed in every vow he made to me too, still believing he meant to honor those words. Then, I still didn’t know he hadn’t honored the unspoken trust I thought we had from the moment he asked me to be his girlfriend.

  “I guess he didn’t think he’d get caught,” I say, thinking back to that evening, after we’d had our dance and our cake and toasted one another with champagne I figured I’d have a few sips of. But I was a woman then, a married woman, and so I had half the glass.

  “He was an idiot,” Hunter says, his jaw tight. “Can I ask how you found out?”

  “By accident of course. I had like a half a glass of champagne, my first time drinking alcohol really, and I got a little drunk. It wasn’t sitting well, especially with being bombarded by people offering congratulations and friends pulling me off to the side for hugs or a little dance or advice about married life. When I finally got a moment to myself, I realized I’d lost complete track of Wyatt. His best man was talking up one of the bridesmaids, so I figured maybe one of his other groomsmen might have stolen him away.”

  Hunter looks back at me, seeming to hang on every word, tipping his chin for me to continue.

  “Like I said, I was a little drunk, and the lights—we had lights strung all over—were making me warm. I just wanted some air and to find Wyatt. And that’s what I told anyone who tried to stop me for another congratulatory hug. Pretty soon, I was beyond all the noise, was walking out toward the back of the field behind the church, wildflowers still blooming all over the place. And there’s this small building back there—it’s a shed for lawnmowers and shovels, stuff like that, but it looks like a miniature of my dad’s church. I had this thought, this silly thought that Wyatt and I could fix it up and move into it instead of the small apartment he’d rented for us. I was still thinking that when I started to hear voices, voices that got louder with every step I took.”

  “Wyatt,” Hunter says.

  “Yes. His was the first I recognized, coming out from behind the shed. There was a woman’s voice too—I mean of course there was—and he kept telling her to calm down. He kept saying that he was a married man now and that what they had was over. He said he made a promise to me and that he wasn’t going to cheat on his wife.”

  “Jesus. But he’d already been cheating on you.”

  “That’s what I was figuring out. It was a shock to say the least, the very last thing I would have ever expected from him. I was frozen there for a while, enough for me to recognize the woman’s voice, even through her hysterics and tears. It was my brother’s girlfriend, Olivia. That was the second shock of the evening.”

  “Your brother’s girlfriend? Shit, Alli.” He puts his hand over mine. “That’s bad.”

  “It was bad, but Olivia cheating on Abe wouldn’t have come as a surprise to me if it was with anyone else but Wyatt.”

  Hunter furrows his brows. “And why is that?”

  “Because my brother was gay. I knew it, and he knew it, but he could never really come out and say it. I tried to understand why he didn’t think he could be who he really was, but I also didn’t think it was fair for him to be dating Olivia when I knew deep down he would have been happier with a man.”

  Hunter is quiet, then says, “Being gay in a small town can’t be easy.”

  “No, it’s not, at least it wasn’t for him, but it’s not the dark ages either. I really didn’t think anyone else knew for sure about his feelings, but I decided then that Olivia had to know, and that’s why she went after Wyatt. And maybe Abe was her perfect cover.” All I have to do now is close my eyes, and I can see that moment unfold all over again, the dry grass still under my feet as my anger bubbled to the surface. “I was furious all of a sudden, absolutely livid. I didn’t even go through the whole denial stage, like this can’t be happening because it so totally was. So, I ran toward the shed, ran until I could see Wyatt, his arms crossed over his chest, his head lowered and shaking it from side to side as Olivia sputtered and spit words at him, her face contorted with a fury I’d never seen on anyone before.

  “She was the first to see me, shock on her face, then some kind of satisfaction, like she’d wanted this to happen all along, for Wyatt to be caught. I was about to make myself known to Wyatt—I think his eyes were closed, like he was having some kind of inner turmoil—but then I looked just beyond Olivia, to the two hands that held tightly to her shoulders, the form of a man behind her I hadn’t wanted to see, a man I had erased from my reality for as long as I could because I didn’t want to believe he was there too.

  “I said, ‘Why are you here, Abe?’ before I said anything else. Because I knew then—I just knew that he was a part of it, the big lie, that he had to know his girlfriend was sleeping with Wyatt, and he was keeping it quiet because maybe Olivia and Wyatt were keeping things quiet for him too.”

  “Holy fuck.”

  “It wasn’t Wyatt I went after—it was Abe. I ran forward and pushed him away from Olivia. I beat on his chest and demanded to know why he’d lied to me. I almost didn’t care about Wyatt then. Men who want sex can lie about all kinds of things, but not brothers. Brothers aren’t supposed to lie like that.”

  Hunter pulls me toward him, his arm around me, his lips against my hair.

  “I kept hearing Wyatt say what he’d done was all in the past, that what happened with Olivia was a giant mistake. He was pulling me away from Abe, his hands on my shoulders like Abe’s had been on Olivia’s. He was kissing the back of my head, asking me to forgive him over and over again. All the while I was looking at Abe who was starting to crumple under my gaze, and I knew that I’d never be able to forgive Wyatt until I could find a way to forgive my brother. But that wasn’t going to happen that night—I was way too angry, and way too hurt.

  “I said horrible things to them both. I don’t think I even said a word to Olivia because she didn’t matter to me. But I told Wyatt he made me sick, disgusted, that he was a filthy liar. I threw my ring at him and said I’d never be able to trust him again. And I said worse to Abe, so much worse, even as he was apologizing and pleading. By then, a few people had come because of all the yelling. Wyatt was frantic, begging me to forgive him, and someone—I still don’t even know who—was telling Wyatt he needed to take a walk, Abe too. They said to give me space, that they were just making things worse by sticking around, and then someone was holding me to their chest and telling me it
was going to be okay. Then someone else was leading me away from the shed, an arm around me, a voice saying we all just needed some time to calm down.”

  I wipe at the tear that forms in my eye, and I try not to feel the emptiness that had come over me later that night when I had calmed down, when I had finally wanted to talk to my brother and ask him why he’d done what he did. I still had hope then that there was enough forgiveness in my heart to at least listen.

  “Then the accident happened,” Hunter fills in, his voice low and quiet.

  I nod. “It had already been enough of a shock to find out my new husband had been cheating on me and that my brother knew about it. So, when my father came into my room early that morning, set the ring on my dresser I’d thrown at Wyatt and then told me Abe and Wyatt had died, I couldn’t absorb it. The cheating and the lying had been real enough, but this part couldn’t be. I told my father to please leave me be, just to let me sleep, and he did. That’s exactly what he did.”

  Hunter goes quiet, and I have to imagine that me telling him this brings back bad memories for him too, of losing two people he loved dearly in one fell swoop, alive and talking one minute, dead and silent the next.

  “I loved them both,” I continue. “I still do. I don’t think I would have been able to be Wyatt’s wife after what he’d done, but I think I could have been his friend. I just wish I’d had that chance, to not feel guilt every day for having such vile, awful words be the last of mine they would ever hear from me.”

  “Not your fault… not your fault,” Hunter says.

  I close my eyes. Fault means very little when the two people I’d blamed for so much are dead. “Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.” I understand enough about the world to know my past would be a burden to some men, that a lot of them wouldn’t want to take it on.

  “I’m glad you told me,” Hunter says. “It means a lot.”

  I pause, feeling a weight lift away from me. And then I wonder if Hunter feels a weight on his chest too. Are there things he might want to share with me? “It goes both ways,” I say. “I’m here for you, just like you’ve been for me.”

  He inhales, and there’s a catch of his breath. It takes a good half-minute before he says, “I want you to know that I’m usually more careful about… well, about condom usage, Alli. I apologize for not being more responsible, but I need you to know you have nothing to worry about… well… maybe not nothing.”

  I turn my body toward his and look into those blue eyes of his, gripped with a sudden worry. “Not nothing?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t have any diseases, Alli. I just… well, you could get pregnant is all.”

  “Oh.” My rising worry settles. “I’m on birth control,” I tell him. “I started before I married Wyatt, and I never stopped. I guess I should have asked about a condom anyway, but…”

  But, like Hunter, I’d gotten caught up in the moment, and the swell of hormones. The need to be with him had quieted the advice given during health class about safe sex.

  “That’s a relief. I guess you and I don’t want to have to worry about babies right now. But like I said, I promise you, Alli, I’m always so careful, even when I was a punk kid in high school. Honestly, I’m pretty sure you’re the first woman I’ve ever had sex with without a condom, so you don’t have to worry, not about anything.”

  “Then you’re like a virgin too,” I say, not especially wanting to think about all of the other women he’s been with but grateful that, with us, there’d been no barrier. That is if he’s telling the truth, but I don’t see even the trace of a lie in his eyes.

  “I like seeing it that way.”

  He wraps his other arm around me so that I’m encased in him, and even if sitting up isn’t the best way to fall asleep, I’m sure it will be easy to do in his embrace. When I close my eyes, I consider what he’d told me about his condom usage as important, but it’s not the sort of thing I was talking about when I asked him to tell me whatever he wanted to. Somehow, I know there’s a past beyond the loss of his mother and aunt that is deeply embedded in him, that he isn’t ready to talk about, but one that maybe he should.

  I won’t push though, because it’s not fair to prod someone into sharing something they aren’t prepared for.

  So I commit to being here for him, for if and when he’s ready.

  Chapter Twelve

  ALLISON

  My alarm woke me up before daybreak, and while Hunter tugged at me and asked me to stay in bed with him, he gave up when I told him my job with Sheila was important and that I couldn’t shirk my duties.

  He threw on his jeans and a shirt while I slipped back into the same dress, underclothes and boots I’d worn the day before, and then he drove me to Sheila’s condo where he insisted on parking and walking me to the elevator.

  “I can be there with you when you face Sheila,” he said, holding me in his arms as I waited for the elevator doors to open.

  “I’m a big girl,” I told him, breathing in that wonderful masculine smell of his. “And I think it’s only right I deal with this on my own.”

  “If you’re sure,” he said.

  “I’m sure.”

  He kissed me, long and sweet, and then I stepped into the elevator and watched as he disappeared outside the closing doors.

  Sheila was already gone by the time I made it up to the condo, as was Lisa. Both were early risers, and the condo could feel eerily quiet when neither was there. Without wasting time, I hopped into a hot shower, wishing Hunter could be under the spray of water with me, though the memory of his hands over my skin and his thick member inside of me were still very much present.

  His imprint remains with me as I get dressed and put on my makeup, my soreness from last night a reminder of what we’d done. I was no longer a virgin, and I loved the man who helped me lose it. Anxious to do it again, I’d easily promised to see Hunter again tonight.

  In a mere twelve hours, I’ll be in his arms again.

  It’s not until I’m walking into the office that I grow nervous at having to face Sheila. She never replied to the text I sent her yesterday, the one where I told her I’d be spending the night at Hunter’s condo. Having arrived fifteen minutes early, I’m hoping she’ll give me a few minutes of her time to explain myself. I don’t expect her to cheer Hunter’s and my relationship on, but I do hope she won’t let it interfere with her own working relationship with him, and that she’ll let me keep my job.

  When I walk down the hallway and see her office door closed—unusual for this time of morning—I realize our conversation will have to wait.

  Disappointed and still nervous, I go about starting my day as I always do, waking up my computer, turning on all of the lights in the office and going over Sheila’s schedule and making notes about calls I’ll need to make on her behalf. Having been out yesterday, I’ll be playing a bit of catch up.

  About twenty minutes later, I’m already making progress with my workload when I hear the door to Sheila’s office open. I jump up from my desk, nearly tripping in my heels before I hurry toward the hallway so that I can talk to her.

  But it’s not Sheila who comes walking down the hall.

  “Well, hello there,” Theresa Carmichael says, scanning me from head to toe, a superior air to her voice when she adds, “I see something has you up and about early too.”

  Yeah, something called a job.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Carmichael,” I say, surprised—and not especially happy—to see her.

  “Well, that’s formal now, isn’t it? And it makes me feel so damn old too. I do have a first name you know.”

  “Of course. I’m so sorry, Theresa. Is there anything I can get you?” It’s my job to be nice, regardless of my lack of fondness for her.

  “I’ve got it covered,” Sheila says, coming out of the office next. “But do let us know if there’s anything at all you or Henry need.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry. I’m quite sure I’ll think of something,” Theresa
replies to Sheila, then decides to look me up and down all over again, as if deciding whether or not my choice of wardrobe meets her approval. She scrunches her nose, tilts her chin up and walks past me and out of the office, leaving the scent of an expensive, lavender based perfume in her wake.

  “I didn’t realize she was coming in this morning,” I say after the door to the suite closes. The way she’d acted at the stadium in Santa Clara, I didn’t see a meeting with Sheila in the cards.

  “If you’d been at work yesterday, you would have known.” Sheila’s tone is clipped, and I don’t even have a chance to respond because she turns on her heel and disappears right back into her office.

  She’s definitely not happy with me, but I decide to follow her anyway and peek just inside her open office door. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help, Sheila, but you did give me the day off. If you’d wanted me back at the office, I would have—”

  “What? You would have pulled yourself away from Hunter to come in?” She’s behind her desk but still standing. “You might as well come in and sit down so we can deal with this.”

  I follow her direction and slide into the chair across from her, then regret that decision when she decides to keep standing, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “He’s a good guy, Sheila. I really wish—”

  “We are not here to discuss Hunter’s merits or lack there of. If you’re worried about losing your job, don’t. As long as you continue to deliver on what I ask of you, then you’ll always have a job with me. However, I’m not going to stand here and pretend that you spending last night with Hunter is okay—it’s not. I consider him a friend and valued client, but he has absolutely no staying power when it comes to women. Your head might be in the clouds right now, but I can guarantee it’s going to fall when he moves on to his next woman of the moment. It’s what he does, Allison, and how do you think it will look to your parents that I let this happen on my watch? As if their opinion of me isn’t already low.”